Rainy Day
by myheartwanders
Summary: Rainy Days' are Harry's favorite days. Days where he gets a chance to look into things he has brought home from school. Post GOF. Better Summary coming later. WIP
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Schlastic Books and Raincoast Books, Waner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Please Note this is only my second attempt at a story. I am not English so if there is an American edge to it, well I am American - deal.

Rainy Day

It was a rainy day.

Rain. It was depressing for most, but it was my favorite type of day. Well. Luckily for me it was England and many days were filled with rainy days.

It had been less than a week since I had been back at my relatives house. Strangely they had left me alone. I think it was something in my eyes. I think personally it was the dead look that is lingering.

They knew that I had nothing left. Nothing that would stop me anymore from let loose, from breaking the rules. I didn't raise to the bait. Didn't react to the hits, the pushing, shoving. Their punishment. So it stopped. I'm not complaining. Besides, who can say they like being starved, beat, tortured, and rapped.

It could help that my magic almost killed my uncle and cousin both in a particular brutal session. My aunt had to take them to the hospital. Quit a feat, a funny one in retrospect. Both are still in coma. I think my magic is punishing them. The doctors don't know what is wrong with them.

Maybe my magic will let them out of it when its satisfied I think, who knows. I sure don't.

What I do know, is that I am changed.

Cedric.

He is gone.

I killed him.

I tired to be fair. My goodness, my fairness - it killed him.

The graveyard changed me.

This place wasn't so much hell anymore, more like a prison full of quiet solitude.

There is no news from the outside world.

No letters, no visits. Even though I know there are guards. they say nothing - not even when my uncle and cousin left.

My aunt leaves most days to the hospital.

This leaves me to my own devices.

So I read. I study.

Sirius had a funny since of humor.

Before leaving school he sent me a package to open when I got back to my relatives. A package that had a letter that said "Be my son".

A potion to make me his son. Books to teach me about the things I should know.

The anger of the tournament passed in short order.

Why because the in addition to the potion to be his son there were other potions that would clear out all the other potions that were in my system. It was the only was the adoption would work.

Turns out those potions seemed to be geared toward things that made me - 'me'.

The ones that gave me a short temper, short attention span, that made me reckless, hardheaded, all the things that made me the ideal 'boy-who-lived'.

The adoption potion changed me a little but not unrecognizably. My hair was darker and more tame. My features more aristocratic, brining out both the Black and Potter features. But my eyes where the biggest change. From the AK green to a darker malevolent AK green.

Between the two potions I felt like I did before I ever went to Hogwarts. Suspicious. Cautious. Ambitious. Most of all intelligent.

So I read.

Its the only thing that takes my mind of the last year of hell. The last several years of hell.

I read and listen to the rain.


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Schlastic Books and Raincoast Books, Waner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Please Note this is only my second attempt at a story. I am not English so if there is an American edge to it, well I am American - deal. Anyone want to Beta feel free to message me - this is a ramblings of a story, but any help is welcome.

Am I A Black

After a week or so of reading I decided to test my Black status and called Kretcher to me.

"Kretcher"

 _POP_

"Half Blood dirty blood Master." said the angry little elf.

"So I am your Master then?" I asked.

"You are the mudblood loving blood traitor shame to the Black name Masters son now, so your my master too." said the disagreeable little shit.

"You have two choice" I tell lhim.

"You can be my elf and restore the Black name. Or be my fathers elf."

"You have no cares for the honorable House of Black halblood" spat the elf.

"Your telling me that it doesn't matter to you that there is a houseful of people in our ancestral home, throwing things out, that people are stealing things, and destroying all that the House should be?" I shouted.

"And mudblood does?" asked the elf.

"I am a Black now, and I will bring honor back to the House with or without your help elf." I said sternly.

 _POP_

Little shit.

Well at least there was one other elf I knew I could call one.

"Winky."

 _POP_

Slurring her words, "The Harry Potter calls Winky?"

"Are you still a free elf?"

Wailing, "Shame, bad elf..." as she starts to harm herself.

"Winky stop!" I demand.

"I am in need of a elf, if you are sober and willing I would like you to be my elf."

The wailing came harder, except she clung to my leg and began saying things that I couldn't understand in a million years.

With a snap of her fingers Winky was sober.

"Winky is sober now and wants to be harry Potters elf sir."

"Okay Winky do you accept to be my elf, an elf to the House of Potter-Black?"

"Winky accepts master!"

A Flash late and I was a proud owner of a loyal jumping house elf.

POP

And then Kretcher was back.

"Mistress says that I am to follow you not her baster of a son."

And then there were two loyal house elves.


	3. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Please Note this is only my second attempt at a story. I am not English so if there is an American edge to it, well I am American - deal. 

Unfinished Business 

Standing with two house elfs in my room I pondered my next course of action.

"Kretcher were you left with any standing orders?"

Kretcher looked down in shame.

Two sequential _POPS_ , and Kretcher was back holding a neckless. Silver wrapped around a green gem, emerald perhaps, with an S on the front.

"Master Regulas asked me to destroy this and I couldn't." The elf handed it over.

"Kretcher there is a strange magic coming off the necklace, have you ever felt it before?" I asked perplexed.

Sensing magic was a new thing.

"Only from you scar half-blood master." Said Kretcher, answering as ordered.

I rubbed my scar.

I sat in thought for a moment. I obviously couldn't trust the wizards to help me. After all Dumbledore knew of the scare for over 13 years. Who would be an expert in magic and be able to help me. Then the thought hit me.

"Do you think the goblins could help Kretcher?"

"They are very powerful half-blood master, theys may be helping for a price." Kretcher said a bit more optimistically - if that was possible.

"Kretcher could you make an appointment for the healers and curse breakers?"

"Of course half-blood master."

And then _POPED_ away.

That left me with one elf with nothing to do.

I had lived in this house for as long as I could remember. My possessions could be shrunk down to a match box. My dear Aunt must know more, or have more magical things in this house. Wouldn't she?

"Winky, could you go through this house and bring me anything magical and anything that belonged to my parents?"

"Yes I cans master Harry."

And _POP_ , she too was gone.

I stood there in a crap room. My lovely cousins second room. Still yet to actually be cleaned.

A list. That's what I needed.

I now had two house elf's to help me. I could do things now. Especially sense I was finally thinking clearly.

I got out a parchment and quill from my school trunk and took a seat on the floor.

The List, I wrote at the top.

1\. Have the room cleaned and the bed repaired.

2\. Have the elf's fix the mattress, and get proper bed things.

3\. Have the elf's make a proper study desk, worth of a Ravenclaw.

4\. Read through books 1-4.

5\. See if the room can be warded for magic use, and if it can practice books 1-4.

6\. Have Kretcher teach me about the Ancient and Noble Houses.

Before I could continue Winky _POPED_ back in with many things in tow.

There was a trunk, and many trinkets.

"These be the things I found master Harry." A proud smile on her face.

"Thank you Winky."

I looked the things over, but before I went on I asked Winky about the things on my list.

"Winky could you clean my room, repair the bed, get dressings for the bed, create me a proper study desk, and ward the room from outside magic detection so i can practice my magic?"

"I cans master Harry." Winky said with a smile and went about the room.


	4. Chapter 4

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Please Note this is only my second attempt at a story. I am not English so if there is an American edge to it, well I am American - deal. 

Getting Business In Order 

In the matter of minutes the room, I refused to call it mine, was made anew.

"Thank you Winky."

She started to cry and wring her ears.

"Winky please stop it."

"Master Harry Potter sir is too nice."

"Well Winky, you'll have to do your best to get used to it. You're important to me and I will treat you with the respect you deserve."

"Oh master Harry Potter sir, yous too good to me, such a good wizard sir."

"Well Winky, you deserve it." I said with a smile, kneeling down I gave her a little hug.

"The room looks amazing."

"Is there anything elses I can be doings?"

"As a matter of fact Winky, you could go through my trunk. Get rid of anything broken or unusable, fix anything I can use, and repair my clothing to something wizard proper."

"Yes sirs, Is be doing that."

And we both went to work on the two trunks. 

Getting Business In Order Getting Business In Order Getting Business In Order 

The trunk seemed to belong to my mother. I sorted out all the clothes and set them to the side. I had no use for them.

My eyes watered when I came across a collection of photographs from her school days. They were filled with her, my father, Sirius, Remus, Peter, and several with people I was not familiar with.

I too set those aside in a separate pile.

The books were amazing. All years were in there, plus some not on the curriculum. This would come in handy.

From years past I knew that I wouldn't be going anywhere until about the last two weeks of summer, so I could spend time catching up. Especially on Ancient Runes and Arithmancy.

Maybe, just maybe I could sit for my OWLS in those subjects as well.

The culture and law books would be interesting to say the least. I needed to know about those things anyway. Why did Petunia have to be such a cow? She could have made things so much simpler for me if she would have just raised me with all this knowledge; she had it at her disposal. But her hatred. Hatred for all things 'unnatural' keep things as they were, or at least until this summer.

My thoughts were interrupted with Kretcher _POPING_ back into the room.

"Half-blood master, the goblins say they will see you at 8am sharp tomorrow morning."

"Thank you Kretcher."

Looking out the window it was well past dark. Time had seemed to have flown by.

Tired I found it was time to turn in, especially with an early appointment in the morning.


	5. Chapter 5

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Please Note this is only my second attempt at a story. I am not English so if there is an American edge to it, well I am American - deal.

The Trip to Gringotts 

The morning came, and along with it a lite breakfast waiting for me, courtesy of Winky. A set of clothes and a robe set out courtesy of Kretcher.

Outset was also a history book open to a specific page about goblins.

I sat to eat, and read as I did so.

According to the book Goblins are a race of highly intelligent creatures that live side by side with wizards. The goblins are considered to be inferior by many wizards, who foolishly believe that the goblins are comfortable with that arrangement. It was noted to see "Goblin Rebellions" for more information. The book further stated that goblins are extremely clever and more than able to stand up to wizards.

But according to the last treaty were confined to being in charge of Gringotts, controlling the wizarding economy to a large extent, something the wizards had not anticipated. Furthering that notion was the fact that the goblins actually mint the Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts used in the wizarding world; each coin is stamped with a serial number identifying the goblin who cast it. Making melting them down impossible.

Finishing his breakfast he took the facts he read to heart, and was determined to treat the goblins with respect, that he was sure they rarely saw from a wizard.

I quickly showered and dressed, making sure I look as presentable as possible. Winky had done well fixing my clothes, as did Kretcher picking them out.

"Kretcher, would you please take me to the appropriate place for my appointment?"

"I will half-blood master says." 

The Trip to Gringotts The Trip to Gringotts The Trip to Gringotts 

Harry and Kretcher arrived and was meet by a goblin with very long fingers and feet, and a long pointed beard.

"Right on time I see. Follow me." Said the goblin, who had not given his name or asked my own.

"I will call for you when I am ready to leave Kretcher."

"Yes half-blood master."

I turned from Kretcher and quickly caught up with the goblin, who frankly didn't care if I was following him or not, or if I got lost. Maybe he wanted me to get lost. Hadn't Griphook told me that wizards had been sucked into vaults left to die? Would this be like the same thing?

Shaking my head, the goblin stopped at a pair of stone doors with intricate carvings. It was quite beautiful to look at.

"You may enter." The goblin said and walked away.

I watched him leave and turned my head towards the imposing doors.

With all my strength I pushed it open revealing a ritualistic chamber.

Standing there were three goblins, no beards, and three humans. I guess that would make me the seventh.

The most elder goblin spoke.

"First we will examine the locket the elf spoke of, examine and compare it to your scare. Purify them both after calling to see if any others are connected. While that is happening you will go through a healing after your scare is as your kind would say 'fixed'. The fee will be taken out of your vault. Is any of that unclear?"

"No, I understand." I handed over the locket, but the goblin stepped back.

"Place the necklace on the pedestal." Angry that I would dare hand over a potential dark object.

I did as instructed.

"Now lay down on the marble slab."

There were no details visible as I walked up and lay down.

I heard murmured words to my side. Then a goblin came over to me with one of the humans in tow. More murmured words.

That was the last I remember before my world went black.


	6. Chapter 6

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Please Note this is only my second attempt at a story. I am not English so if there is an American edge to it, well I am American - deal.

A Stranger In A Strange Place

I woke up uncomfortable in a chair.

"It's about time you woke up." Said a gruff voice in front of me.

But things were blurring, so I took of my glasses. I could see clearly. And my sleeves. They were shorter, or were my arms longer?

"Your attention if you will."

I looked at the goblin sitting at an average size, but very ornate desk. On top of his desk were a dead snake, a cup, a crown thing, a ring, and the locket.

"I am Deadclaw. The items before you are were all tainted with what you humans call a Horcrux, or soul anchor, as was the one located in your scar."

I sat there with a blank stare.

"What that means is that a human split their soul and put slivers of them into these objects and you, so they could cheat death."

I still sat there staring.

"After the extraction your magic flared. Apparently it was holding back possible possession."

I still sat there staring.

"The healing that took place, the combination of your free magic and goblin magic, healed your previous wounds and malnutrition."

I still sat there staring.

"Are you going to say nothing wizard?" Deadclaw demanded.

"So… I had a part of a soul in me. Along with the one in me there were six others."

"I already said that." Said a stern Deadclaw.

"Right. I am having flashes of familiarity with the information, it's confusing me."

"That is most probably a transfer of information from the soul anchor, left behind as it was removed while trying to stay embedded. Use occlumency to sort and store the information."

"How do I do that?" I asked, never have hear of occlumency.

Deadclaw tapped his desk and three books appeared.

"Read these, master the arts, and return them."

"I can definitely do that." Happily I took the books.

"Now to your accounts." Deadclaw stated, frustration further in his voice – if that was even possible.

Looking at him I waited.

"They are a mess. Your account manager has let your Headmaster access your accounts unauthorized."

"What does that mean?" I asked perplexed.

"That means that from your trust vault he has deposited money into the following accounts for the last 13 years: 100,000G Order of the Phoenix a year; 20,000G a year Durleys. From age 11 the following: 10,000G a year the Weasleys; 5,000G a year Ron Weasley; 5,000G a year Hermione Granger. From age 12 a further 5,000G a year to Ginevra Weasley."

I was in shock. Or was I?

Thinking about it the Weasleys came through on the muggle side of the barrier. No wizard family would do that. Ron had made sure that I would hate Slytherins – along with Hagrid poor dolt – and hail Gryffindor.

Both Ron and Hermione made sure to undermine anything I tried to do. Ron by constant distraction and envy; Hermione by lecture, distain, and jealousy. Ron couldn't stand that I had money, Hermione couldn't stand that I was smart, both dominated all my time. I realized then that I had no other friends.

Ginny was always trying to be my girlfriend, scaring away any others. The twins always buddy buddy – having the Marauders in common. Between the five I was watched and ultimately conditioned.

But to what end?


	7. Chapter 7

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Please Note this is only my second attempt at a story. I am not English so if there is an American edge to it, well I am American - deal.

And The Answer Is

One word.

Dumbledore.

I could not thank Sirius enough for the potions that purged my system or the healers that finished me off, but with my mind clear the suspicions came to light, the ambitions of others. The manipulations. The mastermind behind it all.

"Deadclaw how much money is in my trust?" I would also need to ask what other vaults I had, but that could wait.

"Your trust is filled with 150,000G every year on your birthday from the main Potter Vault."

"So Dumbledore has taken almost the entire amount from my trust for most of my life?"

"That is correct."

Hmm. What to do, what to do.

"Now that you are emancipated you can take up the Head of both Houses, the Black due to a technicality. Recall all keys, blood bond your key and money pouch, and Dumbledore will be unable to touch your money."

"How am I emancipated? And how can I be the Head of the Black family if Sirius is still alive?" I asked perplexed.

"The Tri-Wizard Tournament declared you an adult, none protested, and it was confirmed by multiple members of the ministry and outside representative's. As for the House of Black, if the Head of House has not claimed the ring within five years of the previous ones death it can go to the Heir – which is you."

"So how many vaults do I currently have? Just the trust and Potter vault?"

Deadclaw looked at me like I was the biggest dolt on the entire planet…. Maybe universe.

"An inheritance test will tell us." Was all he said.

And The Answer Is And The Answer Is And The Answer Is And The Answer Is

"So let me get this straight. I am heir to the Ancient and Noble Houses of Potter and Black, heir to the Noble Houses of Blackburn, Arvadale, and Sorenson? But for the last three I have to blood adopt the child into that bloodline so the future heir carries on the blood?"

"That's is what I said. Why are you repeating everything?" asked a gruff Deadclaw.

"So 5 votes for the Ancient houses, and 2 votes for the Noble houses."

"This is becoming annoying wizard."

"Okay, I'll take up as the Head of all Houses. Does all this make you my new bank manager? I've never meet the other one." That would be the only reason he would be helping me this much, wasn't it?

"If it is your request. I am merely correcting the mistakes of your previous manager. Before you ask he is now dead for violating bank policy."

"It is. Now let's talk some real business."

"After you accept the rings young wizard, then we will make some money." Said a very sharp toothed goblin. Was that a smile?


	8. Chapter 8

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Please Note this is only my second attempt at a story. I am not English so if there is an American edge to it, well I am American - deal.

 **For the purpose of this story, Ron did not make up with Harry until Cedric died and they were on the train. Hermione stood by Ron, not Harry, and she too did not try and make up to Harry until the train ride home.**

Meddling

The trip to the bank was enlightening and productive, and I still had plenty of daylight left.

At the stroke of midnight on my birthday all funds, less 1 Sikle, will be transferred to my money pouch.

No one will be getting their money, and that couldn't make me happier.

If they wanted to meddle, well I can meddle even better. The hat did want to sort me into Slytherin after all.

 _July 17, 1995  
Dear Ron, _

_Hey mate. I haven't heard from you this summer so I wanted to see how things were. What's going on at the Burrow? How is the family? What is the Prophet saying? Has Voldemort been busy? The Cannons won any games?_

 _I haven't heard from Hermione, I hope she is okay._

 _Hope to hear from you soon mate._

 _Your friend,_

 _Harry_

 _July 17, 1995  
Dear Hermione,_

 _I haven't heard from you this summer so I wanted to see how things were. How's your trip with your parents? Are you back yet? Did you get all your school work done yet? I've started on mine._

What is the Prophet saying? Has Voldemort been busy?

 _I haven't heard from Ron or any Weasley. I hope that they are all okay._

 _Hope to hear from you soon 'Mione._

 _Your friend,_

 _Harry_

 _July 17, 1995  
Dear Dad, _

_I miss you. I followed the instruction in the package you left for me at the end of the year. I hope calling you dad isn't too much. James will always be my father, but I never knew him. I don't even remember him. If it bothers you I can go back to calling you Sirius or Padfoot or Snuffles._

 _Things are going okay here, but I haven't heard from anyone. I hope everyone is doing okay._

 _Please write me. Tell me what's going on. What is the Prophet saying? Has Voldemort been busy? What about the Order?_

 _Your son,_

 _Harry_

Several days no answer. I wonder why they aren't writing me. Why no one is writing me?

 _July 21, 1995  
Dear Ron/Hermione/Sirius, _

_I haven't heard from you. Are you okay? Is everyone okay?_

 _I haven't heard from you or anyone else. I'm getting worried._

 _Please, please write me back._

 _Harry_

They want to ignore me. Dumbledore must be involved. I tried to think about it logically. The old man left me all alone for 10 years of my life with the scum of the earth. Somewhere along the way potions made their way into my system, and I became dependent on a select few.

Trauma and seclusion made me dependent, with the help of magic. When if my past actions, prior to interference, stayed true then I would have remained secluded and warry of all.

Now it seemed like Dumbledore was repeating the past. Cedric literally died in front of my eyes. Voldemort literally rose from primordial ooze. Well maybe not primordial, but the point is the beginning sequence was there. Trauma, then subsequent seclusion, then rescue. It was a given really.

How oddly predictable, mundane even. Only I hadn't been able to see it until now.

 _July 25, 1995  
Dear Ron/Hermione, _

_I haven't heard from you since the train ride. Are you still mad at me? I thought that we were okay. I know that you didn't really apologize for what you did to me, but I thought that we were going to at least move past what you put me through this past year._

 _Please write me back and let me know we are still friends, and that you and everyone else is okay._

 _Harry_

I wonder if this last letter will get them to write me back. Or will it be until they don't get their money that they decide to talk with me.


End file.
